


want to vanish inside your kiss

by neilwrites



Series: never knew it could feel like this [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Porn With Plot, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25225924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neilwrites/pseuds/neilwrites
Summary: He looks back at Andrew’s bed and tries to make sense of what happened there, what happened tonight.It doesn’t feel real, and at the same time, something has severely shifted.It’s only when Neil’s lying in his own bed, in his briefs and a black, oversized shirt with a distinct smell of Andrew, with the bathroom door noisily opening, that he thinks to consider he should have stayed in Andrew’s room.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: never knew it could feel like this [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799245
Comments: 38
Kudos: 620





	want to vanish inside your kiss

**Author's Note:**

> a lot of people asked for a sequel and i am nothing if not easily convinced
> 
> thank you to [djhedy](http://twitter.com/djhedy) and [nightquills](http://twitter.com/nightquills) for proofreading (quills) and screaming at me (hedy)!

Oh.

What does that mean? Neil’s not dumb, he knows what it  _ could  _ mean. But what if he’s missing something. Or worse, what if Andrew’s lying just to make him feel better.

No. Andrew doesn’t lie.

He looks over to check if Andrew is still staring at the ceiling.

“Uh,” Neil starts eloquently, but Andrew interrupts him by getting out of bed.

“I’m gonna shower,” he says, not facing Neil, grabbing some fresh clothes in a hurry to leave the room.

When the bathroom door is yanked shut —because it has a door that’s slightly too big for its frame— Neil sighs and drags himself out of bed too. He feels too floppy, dare he say  _ satisfied _ , to wait for Andrew to finish up so he can take his own shower. He’ll do it in the morning, whether it’s before or after his run depends on how lazy he feels. It’ll probably be after if this feeling is what his body has to recover from.

He grabs his clothes from earlier and spots Andrew’s sleep shirt again. It’s black, which is unsurprising, and it’s a little loose on Andrew, so it must be very oversized on Neil. He wonders briefly if Andrew would notice it being gone, then quickly decides that there’s no time like the present to find out.

He takes the shirt.

He looks back at Andrew’s bed and tries to make sense of what happened there, what happened tonight.

It doesn’t feel real, and at the same time, something has severely shifted.

It’s only when Neil’s lying in his own bed, in his briefs and a black, oversized shirt with a distinct smell of Andrew, with the bathroom door noisily opening, that he thinks to consider he should have stayed in Andrew’s room.

Their apartment is a shithole, with creaky floors to boot, so he can tell when Andrew walks across it, pauses in front of Neil’s closed bedroom door.

Neil sits up and panics.

He should have stayed there, he realizes now. He’s very sure. Except he didn’t do that and now it’s too late. Andrew noticed. Any chance of this not being awkward has flown out of their fourth story window.

“Fuck,” Neil whispers.

Andrew walks away.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Neil repeats, grabs his own hair, and pulls on it.

Okay. Think. Neil, focus, think about this rationally.

These are the things he knows: He just had sex with Andrew. It was very good. It was…  _ very _ good. Andrew is his roommate. Andrew is one of his best and closest friends. Andrew probably knows him better than anyone else. Neil is a weirdo. Quirky, secretive, guarded. Broken and glued back together with some pieces missing. Andrew called him beautiful. Andrew doesn’t lie. Andrew kissed him. Andrew  _ fucked  _ him. Andrew doesn’t do things he doesn’t want to do.

Andrew said it doesn’t always feel like this.

Andrew doesn’t lie.

Neil likes him.

It’s probably weird that Neil only comes to this conclusion after Andrew fucked him so impressively that Neil doesn’t think he ever needs a comparison to know he has it all right here. 

Neil doesn’t like Andrew because he is impressive in bed, though, for the record, he absolutely is. He likes him because he cares for Neil, and shows it in all but words. He likes him because he bitches about Neil’s food habits but brings him what he wants from the store regardless. When they watch movies together, Andrew lets him scroll through options, answers questions without any outward annoyance, lets him hesitate for however long it takes.

Andrew is patient and kind, and funny, and no one else sees that because—

No one else gets to see that.

Andrew won’t let them.

Holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Neil says and throws off his sheets.

He stands up and ignores the brief dizziness. He moves two feet before rethinking it and stepping back.

No, okay, he’s sure. He leaves his room, determined and ready to confront this.

Andrew’s door is closed.

Fuck.

Well. Okay. This is fine. He can just knock. 

Neil doesn’t move. Andrew’s flimsy wooden door feels like a great big wall has been put up between them, and Neil is very aware he’s the one that put it there. He also becomes aware that the floor is just as creaky when  _ he  _ walks on it, so there’s no reason to think he’s being sneaky.

Fuck it. No knocking. 

Neil opens the door and walks into the room. Andrew’s lying in bed, shirtless with headphones in, on the sheets that they—

“Hi,” he says.

Andrew takes his headphones out.

“Neil?”

“Yes.”

Andrew’s left eyebrow twitches like he wants to raise it. It looks sexy.

Right. That’s why he’s here.

“You like me.”

Andrew sits up, and Neil is distracted by the fold of his stomach, the softness of it and he wants to touch—

“What?”

“I left,” Neil says, and he’s really not winning awards for eloquence anytime soon.

“I know,” Andrew says.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

Andrew loses all expression in his face. “Which part?”

“What? No, leaving,” Neil rushes to say. “I shouldn’t have just left.”

Andrew’s eyes land on Neil’s thighs where he’s fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Is that mine?”

Oh. Neil slowly becomes aware of the state of dress he showed up in. It’s not particularly subtle.

“No,” he lies.

“Are you even wearing— Wait, don’t answer that,” Andrew says before crossing the room to stand in front of him.

Neil shivers.

“Why are you panicking?” Andrew asks, careful and far too kind.

“Cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” Neil admits. “I’m fucking things up and I don’t even realize I’m doing it until it’s done.” He presses his nails into the skin of his thighs.

“Did I say you fucked up?”

Neil gestures at Andrew’s room, arms flapping. “I left!”

“Yes, and?” 

“Andrew, what you said…”

A faint blush appears on Andrew’s cheeks. It’s barely there, but Neil can tell.

“What about it?”

Neil inhales deeply. “I know what you meant, now.”

Andrew schools his expression, and Neil hates to see him close himself off.

“And what did I mean?”

“That it’s because it’s us,” Neil says. “It was like  _ that _ , because of us.”

“Us?” Andrew asks, surprise in his voice.

“I think you like me,” Neil says, getting braver as Andrew gets pinker. “Which is good, because I like you too.”

“I don’t like you,” Andrew says and it hurts for the brief second it takes him to follow up. “I’m not twelve.” 

Neil reaches out his hand slowly, waiting to be turned away but when it doesn’t happen, he lands it on Andrew’s warm shoulder. Andrew wraps his hand around Neil’s wrist, but it’s not harsh at all. It feels like he’s clinging on.

“So what are you then,” Neil whispers, daring to step a little closer.

Andrew breathes in, pushes a lock of Neil’s hair back behind his ear. “I’m gone for you.”

Neil exhales shakily. “‘Drew…”

“Have been for months.”

Neil’s knees are weak, and he seeks support by resting his forehead against Andrew’s. 

“You didn’t say anything.”

Andrew shrugs. “I didn’t think I could have you.”

“You can.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Andrew huffs.

“Andrew,” Neil says, moves his hand gently to the back of Andrew’s neck. “I’m yours.”

“You’re an idiot,” Andrew mutters, brings his hands round to dip under Neil’s shirt, cups his cheeks.

Neil gasps. “Sure.”

Andrew squeezes, just once, then backs away a few steps. “How do I know you’re not just high on sex?”

“What?” Neil has to will down the excitement that was growing again. 

“I’m not fucking you again tonight,” Andrew says, and Neil is suffering severe whiplash here.

He shifts his stance so he won’t fall over, not that that would be his most embarrassing moment of the night. “I didn’t come here to get fucked. Again.”

Andrew pushes his hands through his hair in frustration, and Neil shouldn’t think about how hot it looks.

“Then why are you here?”

“Fuck, Andrew, I don’t know! I just didn’t want this to be awkward!”

“It’s not awkward,” Andrew lies for the very first time that night.

“It isn’t?” Neil scoffs. 

Andrew is silent for a minute.

“Why are you wearing my shirt?”

Neil sighs, exhausted, and worn out in more ways than one. “Because I like the way it smells,” he says. “Why didn’t you change the sheets?”

Andrew looks up, caught.

“I’m tired, Andrew. Tomorrow I’ll prove to you it wasn’t just your magical cock. For now, I’d like to sleep.”

A choked off sound comes from Andrew’s throat, and he nods.

“Good,” Neil says, and promptly flings himself on top of Andrew’s bed.

Andrew’s shocked silence lingers, and Neil grins into his stolen pillow. “Problem?”

“No,” Andrew mumbles after a few anxious seconds. Neil waits for the mattress to dip beside him before turning towards him.

“Goodnight, Andrew,” Neil says to Andrew’s avoiding gaze. “Try and get some sleep.”

* * *

Neil wakes up early, which is unsurprising. What  _ is  _ surprising, is turning around to find someone else in the bed, then realizing it’s not his bed,  _ then  _ remembering everything that happened last night.

Neil would groan if he didn’t think it would wake Andrew up.

There’s a pleasant ache all over his body as Neil gets up carefully. He’s tiptoeing around the room when he notices Andrew’s eyes aren’t closed anymore.

“Morning,” he whispers. He doesn’t know why he’s whispering, there’s no one else in the apartment.

“Hmm,” Andrew grumbles, which Neil likes because it means Andrew slept for at least a few hours.

“I realize how this looks,” Neil says. “I'm just going for a run.”

“I know,” Andrew says.

“I’m coming back.”  _ To you _ . “To talk.”

Andrew sighs and nestles further back into his pillows. “I know.”

Neil is hit with waves of nerves and anxiety again, and he wishes things weren’t so complicated. Having sex with a random fuckboy would not have been this stress-inducing, he’s pretty sure.

“Aren’t you freaking out?” Neil blurts out.

Andrew slaps his hands over his face. “Neil.”

“I’m freaking out.” 

“Neil,” Andrew repeats, and Neil looks over to see him sit up. “Go run, go shower and we’ll hang out, alright?”

“Right,” Neil nods. “Sorry.”

“Shut up,” Andrew says, but Neil can tell it isn’t with malice. He might even say Andrew looks worried for him and isn’t that hysterical. He needs to go.

* * *

July heat burns around him, even in the early morning, so it doesn’t take long before he gives up and heads back home. On the way there, he picks up some iced coffees and an éclair for Andrew. Not as a peace offering, he needs to remember. There is no fight. No one did anything wrong. This is just… a gift.

Andrew’s still in bed when he gets back, and Neil smiles as he sees him with the sheets thrown off, steadily breathing, relaxed expression on his face.

He drops the coffees and Andrew’s pastry off in the kitchen and goes for a quick shower. He’s sad to throw Andrew’s shirt in the laundry, but he’ll be damned if he’s ever giving it back to him.

He puts on a loose and light t-shirt with some shorts since the heat is starting to become unbearable in the apartment too. By the time he enters the kitchen, Andrew’s slurping on his coffee already, his adorable bedhead calling out for Neil’s hands, but he’ll hold off for now.

He pushes the pastry box towards Andrew too. “I know you already opened it.”

Andrew pretends not to know what he means for five seconds. “I had to check.”

“For what, a bomb? From Carl’s bakery?”

Andrew shrugs and grins around a bite. Neil saw it. It was there.

“Thanks,” he says, mouth full. It comes out more like a garble, but Neil has gotten used to Andrew’s eating habits when sugar is involved.

“That’s attractive.”

Andrew winks and Neil chokes on his coffee.

After breakfast has been consumed, they relocate to their living room where Andrew stretches out on his stomach on their sofa and Neil on the floor right next to it — because it’s weirdly good for his back and because it’s nice when Andrew looks at him from that position.

Andrew’s arm hangs off the couch, and his hand drops to Neil’s chest, fingers curled up and barely touching him until Neil smiles softly, letting him know it’s okay.

“So,” Andrew says.

“So,” Neil says. He’s glad they didn’t end up talking last night since he was far too worked up about everything. Right now he’s had time to rest his mind and body, he’s recovering from a food coma because Andrew made him oatmeal (and he knows how Neil feels about oatmeal), and he can see the pinkness of Andrew’s ears far better in the daylight.

“I’m no longer under the high of your magical cock, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Andrew rolls his eyes. “I never said I had a magical cock, Josten. Those are your words.”

“And I stand by them,” Neil says with a smirk. “But I’d like you the same without it too.”

Andrew’s ears really are lovely. They’re like the opposite of a chameleon, they refuse to blend in.

“And you came to this conclusion last night?” Andrew asks, his fingers softly caressing the skin of Neil’s neck, his collarbones.

Neil swallows and relishes Andrew’s touch following the movement. “We both know I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Andrew chides. “You can just be very blind to your surroundings.”

“How blind?”

Andrew looks him straight in the eyes, emphasis clear. “ _ Very _ blind.”

Neil grins. “You’re not gonna tell me?”

“Unlike some people, I don’t feel the need to embarrass myself on the daily.”

“Last night, you said ‘months’.”

“Don’t gloat,” Andrew huffs. “It’s not very attractive.”

“Good thing you already like me then.”

“Beginning to wonder why.”

“Don’t start lying now,” Neil says with a grin. 

Andrew’s fingers hold his chin in place, and his thumb pushes against Neil’s bottom lip. His brows are furrowed, so Neil kisses his thumb to make that line disappear.

It startles Andrew, and Neil’s pretty sure he knows what he’s thinking about.

“What can I do to prove it to you?”

“I do trust you,” Andrew says softly, his hand on Neil’s cheek now, cupping his jaw. “It’s just hard to believe it’s real.”

“I didn’t think I could like anyone,” Neil admits, relishing in the gentle touches. “But then there’s you, breaking all my preconceived notions, confusing the shit out of me with how well you fit, as if there’s an Andrew-shaped hole in my soul.” Neil swallows harshly. “I know it looks and feels sudden, and I can’t change that. But I think I’ve been so happy and comfortable just being around you, I didn’t stop to think there could be more.”

For a while, no one says anything. Andrew’s soft touches continue, and Neil closes his eyes and enjoys them. The temperature in their apartment grows to be unbearable without a fan or AC on, but neither of them move for now.

* * *

They spend the rest of the day as they usually would, except now they kiss. A lot.

They kiss on the floor after Neil pulls Andrew on top of him, until the heat between their bodies and the heat around them grows to be too much and they separate to seek relief in front of their freezer. Neil changes out of his sweaty shirt, runs to Andrew’s room and steals a fresh one.

They kiss before Andrew says he needs to work on an essay and Neil remembers he has reading to do, and they kiss in between too.

Andrew has his weekly work-out with Renee, comes home slightly sweaty and full of adrenaline and pushes Neil up against the wall to kiss him stupid.

Neil climbs off of Andrew when he can smell his dinner going wrong, saves it just in time, and lets Andrew apologize with a kiss.

It should be surprising how easy it goes. It’s like nothing changed, except everything has. 

Andrew showers and changes, still refusing to wear a shirt. Neil suffers and enjoys the sight of him.

They watch Netflix as Andrew scrolls on his phone and Neil tries to give a shit about the characters. Every now and then he asks Andrew a question about something he didn’t catch, and Andrew immediately has the answer for him, even as he’s only half-following it. It shouldn’t be sexy, but it is.

Neil might be royally screwed here.

They’ve been pushing their feet together from either end of the couch, play-fighting and stretching their legs, until eventually settling with their legs relaxed between the others. Andrew is shirtless, Neil kicked off his shorts an hour ago.

Neil pushes his toes against Andrew’s inner thigh.

“Hmm?” Andrew asks.

“Can we have sex?”

Andrew drops his phone on his chest. 

He nudges his foot against Andrew’s thigh again, and this time Andrew wraps his hand around it to stop it from moving further.

“Do you want to? You don’t have to.”

“I know,” Neil says. “I want to try again.”

“To compare?” The corner of Andrew’s mouth curves up.

“Maybe it was a fluke,” Neil teases, even though he knows he’s not entirely joking. He can tell Andrew probably thinks so too. The small line between his eyebrows is there again, so Neil says, “Come and kiss me.”

Neil feels the blood rushing through his body as Andrew crawls over to Neil, leans over him with his biceps  _ right there _ , stopping him from thinking about anything other than Andrew, Andrew,  _ Andrew _ .

“Fuck, you’re hot,” Neil says and adores watching the confident smirk appear.

He feels small and caged in, but in the best of ways, and he leans up to accept Andrew’s lips against his, opens up like it’s second nature, because it is, with him.

Andrew lets himself drop down more, leaning his weight on Neil in increments and it’s surprising how good it feels not to be able to move. One leg wrapped around Andrew’s hips, his arms crossed behind his neck, Neil sinks into the cushions.

“Oh baby,” Andrew purrs into Neil’s ear. “I hope you don’t think I’m doing all the work again.”

Neil opens his eyes to stare at Andrew, his chin dropped. “Oh?”

Andrew links his arms behind Neil’s back and  _ pulls them both up to sit _ , making Neil gasp at his strength and the thought of having sex like this.

He tries to catch his breath but it’s so hard when he’s sitting in Andrew’s lap, with Andrew’s cock firm against his ass through only the fabric of his sweats and Neil’s briefs.

Neil’s shirt falls off his shoulder, exposing his collarbones so Andrew can latch on, and Neil gasps again because he’s so hard, and Andrew’s so hard, and they can’t do anything yet because they don’t have the lube here—

“Fuck, hang on,” Neil curses and drags himself away from Andrew to run into his bedroom, grab the lube from his nightstand and run back to the living room only to find Andrew just where he left him, leaning back into the couch, legs spread and comfortable, with a relaxed look on his face.

He throws the lube over to him but pauses to push his tight, black briefs down his legs first. He keeps Andrew’s shirt on, because he can see what it does to him, and if Andrew can play games with Neil, well so can he.

The tent in Andrew’s sweats is obvious, as is the fact that he isn’t wearing anything underneath, but Neil sits down on his lap just out of reach.

Andrew’s finger hooks into the collar of Neil’s stolen shirt, pulling him closer and raising his eyebrow as if to say ‘ _ Really? _ ’.

Neil grins, pecks him on the lips once before Andrew slaps his thigh lightly.

“Up,” he commands. “On your knees, hands on the back of the couch. Look at me. Don’t move.”

Even though Neil is looking down at Andrew from this position, he feels completely under his control. Andrew tells him what to do and Neil does it. It just flows like that, and he feels good, safe.

The click of the lube is swiftly followed by Andrew’s slick fingers rubbing gently around his rim.

“Are you sore?”

Neil isn’t imagining the pride hidden in that question, and he can’t help but antagonize him. “Only a little. Could be worse.”

Andrew sucks a breath through his teeth before smiling. 

Then, without further warning, he starts pushing the first finger in.

The hand that had left the back of the couch to play with Andrew’s hair quickly slams back into place for balance and Neil inhales sharply at the unexpected intrusion, welcome as it may be.

“Fuck,” he wheezes as Andrew slides it in more, and when noticing Neil’s coherence, back out only to pause when just the tip of his finger remains inside.

His knees are weak but Andrew’s looking at him with intent, and he asked him not to move so he won’t.

The second finger is just as surprising as it is quick, but Neil adjusts better than he expected he would, and soon Andrew is sliding those in with ease. The noise it makes is filthy and shouldn’t excite him but Neil watches as his precome drops from the tip of his cock onto Andrew’s abs. He can’t see anything else with the way Andrew’s large shirt falls off him, but he’s  _ aching _ .

Andrew only has three fingers inside for a quick minute before he deems Neil ready to do the rest himself.

He pulls his fingers out, wipes them on Neil’s bare thigh, and leans back. He lifts his hips briefly to push his pants down, and Neil enjoys watching the spring of Andrew’s cock as it’s released.

“Go ahead,” Andrew says.

Neil laughs until he notices Andrew is serious.

“You’re… You’re not kidding.”

Andrew tilts his head. “Would you like step-by-step instructions?”

“Fuck you,” Neil says, immediately pointing at Andrew to stop the reply on his tongue. 

Once again, Neil is hit with a wave of fresh nerves. Sure, this isn’t his first time. It’s quite literally his second, though, and already the safety blanket of inexperience is gone.

Andrew must have seen it on his face, and he rubs his hand on Neil’s thigh, easing his nerves by touch alone.

“Take your time,” he says. 

Neil reaches behind him until he can wrap his hand around Andrew’s cock, tries to figure out the logistics of his own body and how Andrew belongs inside of it.

When he’s got him lined up, Neil releases a nervous laugh. He starts bending his knees more, letting his body drop slowly as he can feel Andrew slide inside. It’s not an easy fit, but it feels natural, like he belongs, and Andrew’s big hand lands on Neil’s waistline under his shirt.

Somewhere along the line, Neil closed his eyes, and he only cracks them open when Andrew’s thumb pulls down his bottom lip, allowing the moan in the back of Neil’s throat to be released.

The next moan is swallowed by Andrew as Neil sinks down fully, the back of his thighs connecting with Andrew’s hips. He feels so full and overwhelmed, resorts to kissing every inch of Andrew’s face because he can’t be bothered to keep aiming for his mouth. Andrew’s hands reach underneath Neil’s shirt and smooth over his cheeks, squeezing them before he starts lifting Neil up.

“Andrew, fuck,” Neil inhales sharply. 

He only realizes how affected Andrew is when he doesn’t follow up with a smirk or a proud remark. Andrew looks up at him in awe, and it’s so strange and open of him, a gesture so filled with trust that Neil sits down in shock, groaning immediately at the feeling of Andrew’s cock lighting up every nerve in his body.

“Fuck,” Neil drops his forehead to Andrew’s shoulder and laughs. “I’m doing a terrible job.”

Andrew huffs next to his ear, and Neil shivers.

“I think you’re doing just fine,” Andrew whispers,  _ whispers _ , and Neil hides a smile in his neck. “Do you wanna try something else?”

“Like what?” Neil asks, very aware of how awkward it should be to have this conversation impaled on Andrew’s twitching dick. “I can’t really consult my experience.”

“Me and my magical cock on the other hand—”

“Oh my god, you’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Neil,” Andrew says, holding Neil’s face in his hands and kissing him gently, laughably gently for their position. “What do you want?”

“You,” Neil says, just like that, the most honest he’s ever been.

Andrew drops his head to the back of the couch and takes a deep breath. Neil shifts his seat a bit because his leg is falling asleep and Andrew groans and holds him in place.

“I could blow you?” Neil asks, out of the blue and Andrew rubs his hands over his face with vigour.

“This would all be over in two seconds flat,” he mumbles through the space between his hands.

“I wanna learn,” Neil insists.

“If you blow me now, I will come in your mouth and you won’t enjoy that.”

“I might enjoy that,” Neil mutters and pouts, enjoying Andrew’s silent swearing.

“Yesterday,” Andrew starts, his hands revealing a determined look in his eyes. “You liked it?”

Neil smiles and moves his hips just at the thought of it. “I liked it a lot, I thought I made that—”

“Hard.”

Neil pauses.

“You liked it hard.”

It’s not a question anymore. 

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Neil says.

Andrew’s hand lingers on Neil’s hip. “Get up.”

“Why?” Neil whines even as he does it. He hates the empty feeling it brings with it, aching because he hasn’t even been fucked yet.

“Bend over the side of the couch,” Andrew says, standing up and dropping his sweats to the ground.

“Oh,” Neil says and blanks out for a couple seconds. That’s… Yes.

He looks away from Andrew’s cock up to his face and swallows harshly. “I— You—”

Andrew looks at him expectantly.

“Right,” Neil mutters and makes his way over to the armrest, dropping his upper body over it. Their couch is pretty low to the ground, so Neil’s loose and stolen shirt slips down his entire back, bunching up at his shoulders. He holds himself up on his elbows, legs spread wide for Andrew.

He’s almost tempted to turn his head so he can see what Andrew’s up to when he can feel his large hands curve around his hips and Neil whines.

He feels his hole twitching, eager to get Andrew back inside and when nothing else happens, Neil decides he’ll make Andrew react. He settles his head onto the pillow, turning to the side so he can breathe and deliberately crosses his arms behind his back, holding his own forearms to restrain himself. 

He can hear Andrew’s choked off groan behind him and hides a smirk. The way he’s positioned now pushes his ass up even more, and the way Andrew squeezes his cheeks means he noticed too. He bounces on his toes impatiently and finally,  _ finally,  _ there’s a familiar pressure at his hole as Andrew pushes inside easily, like he never even left.

It’d be a lie to say Neil doesn’t feel every inch of Andrew enter his body, though. Andrew isn’t small in the slightest, the thick cockhead brushing against his prostate lighting up Neil’s nerves because Andrew  _ knows  _ where it is, found it immediately, and imprinted it in his brain.

So when Andrew is fully in, their thighs connecting and Andrew’s hands pushing on the small of Neil’s back, Neil sighs in relief. This is  _ good _ . 

It’d be even better if Andrew would move.

“Andrew,” Neil moans, “Come on.”

Andrew’s hands wrap around his waist, and Neil blushes as he notices his fingers almost touch.

“What do you want?” Andrew asks, voice husky with arousal, turning Neil on even more.

“You,” he repeats.

“To do what?”

“To—,” Neil starts. Oh god, he’s going to make him say it. “To  _ fuck  _ me.”

“Is that it?” Neil can hear the smirk in Andrew’s tone. This fucking— “ _ Just _ fuck you?”

Neil grips his arms tighter, rubs his face into the pillows before resurfacing and groaning, “Fuck me  _ hard _ , Andrew. Make me feel it.”

The way Andrew strokes his hands over Neil’s waist, his back, makes him think he still won’t move but then Andrew begins to slide out, tightens his grip and slams back inside, pushing Neil further into the pillows with the strength of his thrust and Neil releases a long moan from deep within, feels like it was pushed out by Andrew’s cock that reaches so far inside—

This time Andrew doesn’t wait for Neil to get used to anything, he won’t even let Neil catch his breath before he does it again, slams in again so forcefully Neil chokes on his own spit in surprise.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Neil screams, followed by high-pitched moans even he can’t believe he’s making, holding tight to his arms since it’s all that grounds him besides Andrew’s capable hands around him, holding him down, making him take it.

There’s a part of him that doesn’t even feel present right now, like the slap of Andrew’s thighs against him is happening somewhere far away even though he’s grunting in unison. Somewhere along the way, he closed his eyes to enjoy the ride, trusting Andrew to take care of him, to know what he would like, would need.

Neil gasps when Andrew eases on his thrusts only to wrap a firm hand around his neglected cock, rubbing a gentle thumb against the slit which makes Neil shiver and whine.

“You doing okay, baby?”

It takes a while for the words to register, strung out as Neil is, and he huffs out a satisfied laugh.

“I don’t think I’ve ever-,” he groans when Andrew shifts his stance, presses up against him just right, “felt like this.”

The hand around Neil’s cock tightens and starts pumping away; another hand lands on his chest and starts playing with his nipples, and Neil tries to squirm away but he’s trapped and he loves it.

He can feel the orgasm building deep within his gut, but he refuses to touch himself, to unlock his arms because Andrew decides what happens to him, and Andrew will decide when he gets to come.

He supposes he’s lucky Andrew’s in a giving mood when he pumps his cock faster, places his other hand back on Neil’s hip where it belongs, and starts thrusting back in, hard, bringing Neil back to the surface from where he was sinking away.

“What do you need?” Andrew asks, but Neil doesn’t even remember how to speak right now, a drawn-out noise of pleasure is all he can manage until Andrew slaps his ass, just once, jolting Neil awake.

“Baby,” he says, and Neil’s eyes flutter closed as he smiles contentedly. He really loves when Andrew calls him that. 

“Hmm?”

“Tell me what you need.”

“Hard,” Neil sighs, and it’s about all he can manage.

Andrew takes it for the instruction it is and resumes slamming back inside, pushing and dragging Neil on the couch cushions like a puppet until the feeling in Neil’s gut reaches its crescendo, until he can’t stop, doesn’t even think to warn Andrew before he comes unexpectedly, high-pitched moan muffled into the pillow beneath him.

It’s hard to focus on Andrew as he tries to come down from this epic high, but Andrew won’t let him relax yet, his cock dragging against his sensitive walls, and then finally stilling, waiting and pulsing inside with a muffled swear. Neil twitches around him, overwhelmed and hypersensitive, relaxed, and yet so very aware of Andrew inside of him.

Time passes but Neil pays it no mind. He’s vaguely aware that Andrew pulls out and doesn’t listen to Neil’s complaints and questions to stay inside. Andrew’s hands wrap around his own gently, pulling him out of the restraining position he kept himself in for who knows how long. He rubs Neil’s skin like he’s the one who made the marks, careful and caring, and Neil wishes he could lift his arm to caress Andrew’s skin in turn. He’s blissfully fucked out on the side of their couch until he isn’t, until he can feel Andrew’s strong arms around him, carrying him somewhere.

The bright lights let Neil know they’ve made it to their bathroom. Andrew deposits Neil on the counter, cups his cheek and Neil leans into it.

“Baby,” he murmurs, and Neil bites his lip. “Open your eyes for me?”

Reluctantly, Neil does, squinting immediately when the brightness attacks him even more. When Andrew’s sure Neil’s awake and paying attention he turns around to start the shower up.

He comes to stand in front of Neil as the water takes time to heat and kisses him. Just a peck, a simple press of lips but it makes Neil smile nonetheless.

“Lift your arms?” Andrew asks, and takes off Neil’s crumpled shirt, throwing it to the floor. His hands find their way into Neil’s hair, holding him close as he whispers, “You were so good.”

“Andrew,” Neil says, trying so hard to stay awake. “Thank you.”

“Come on,” Andrew says, lifting Neil from the counter and into the shower.

Neil isn’t fully aware for the whole thing, sort of just lets Andrew take care of him some more. He gets cleaned, inside and out. He gets petted, resists the urge to purr. It’s a few minutes later and about the third time he’s felt Andrew’s elbow poke him when he’s alert enough to say, “This shower really isn’t meant for two people.”

Andrew snorts, actually snorts and Neil can feel his face light up because it makes him so happy, just that simple noise that’s so often far out of reach.

Neil curves his hand around Andrew’s neck to ask for his attention, as if he needed to ask.

“Andrew,” Neil sighs blissfully. “Bed?”

Of course, it’s not that easy. Andrew has to maneuver them both out of the tiny shower, wrap them up in towels, and keeps a keen eye on Neil so he doesn’t fall over (which Neil won’t admit is a definite possibility). When they finally do get back to Andrew’s bedroom —which has the bed Neil meant and Andrew knew he meant— Neil reaches out with grabby hands.

“Shirt,” he says.

Andrew squints at him. “You’ve already stolen two. How many do you need?”

Neil pouts. “Fine. No shirt.” He lays himself down and starts to get comfortable when a piece of fabric hits him in the face.

“Put some clothes on for the love of fuck,” Andrew mutters. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Neil laughs in triumph and immediately pulls the shirt on, and it’s even softer than the others, so he’s stealing this one too. Andrew will have to deal with Neil taking all his shirts, even if it means Andrew won’t have any to wear himself. Oh no. What a terrible thing that would be.

Andrew changes into fresh underwear and joins Neil finally, so Neil turns to face him.

Andrew pokes a finger into Neil’s dimple, making Neil smile which in turn makes the dimple bigger.

“Not a fluke,” Neil says.

“No,” Andrew says. “It’s just us.”

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to yell at me here or on [twitter](http://twitter.com/neilmoony)


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